Michaela
Cleric
Posts: 26
Affinity: Ice
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Michaela on Feb 7, 2016 1:24:06 GMT -6
Daybreak.
Michaela's face scrunched up as sunlight filtered through threadbare curtains, illuminating a thin haze of dust hanging in the air. The sunrise lit up the room, Michaela lay sprawled in the corner of a modest bedroom, on a sheet tossed over loosely bound bales of hay. Her eyes fluttered lightly as she stirred awake, but promptly shut tightly as Michaela regained conscious thought. Oh, Elimine...Wil... Light sobs rocked her delicate frame as she recalled her recent childhood friend from their recently destroyed home, an orphanage in a remote corner of Pherae. I was...so...powerless... As they fled from an impending raid on the orphanage, Michaela and her friend had strayed behind so that Michaela could retrieve her most prized possession, her newly earned heal staff. But h-he's... The sobs renewed, she had been too late. The Church had been good to her since then. After finding her among the ruins of her home, the church sought to aid her by sending her across Lycia, to a remote village in the beautiful farmland of Tuscana.
"Breakfast is ready!" The friendly call roused Michaela from her fit. It had come from downstairs, Michaela recognized the warm, yet slightly shaky voice as her new caretaker, Farmer Silas. "I'll be down in a minute!" Michaela's voice sounded tight and strained, but she did her best to normalize her tone. She drew in a deep, shaking breath, and closed her eyes for a moment. Elimine, another day. It was a brief prayer, the only one she'd been able to muster recently, but it was enough to get her out of bed. She set about changing into her robes and opening the worn curtains. Although it was still early, the sun was already shining and casting a brilliant light over the plains. Michaela couldn't help but to absentmindedly admire the view from her window. The cottage she was staying sat high on a hill, with a small stream winding down the mountain's peak and ending somewhere amidst the plains that Silas' goats fed on. From her vantage point, Michaela could look down the valley and see the main village sitting on the horizon. She had arrived at that village with the local priest a few days ago, her face stained with tears and the rest of her appearance frazzled. It was there that she met Farmer Silas, the man who most readily looked past her bleary red eyes and offered her the spare cot in the attic of his farm house.
Michaela made her way carefully down the stairs. Silas was already waiting in the kitchen table. He smiled patiently, as he always did when he saw Michaela, and as always his demeanor betrayed no signs of him having noticed the signs that Michaela had been crying again. "Well, good mornin'! I was starting to wonder whether you'd gotten lost." Michaela smiled shyly at the jest he told every morning. "Good morning, Silas..." She met his eyes and maintained a small smile. Silas was aged man, well over half a century old. But, as the only employee of the small goat farm he maintained on the hill, Silas had retained his good health, making it hard to pinpoint his age. The main feature educating Michaela's guess was the slight quaver in Silas' voice. "It's always so good to see you smile in the morning! Help yourself." Silas was nearly beaming as he gestured toward the spread he had arranged for breakfast: goat cheese and bread.
Michaela tucked in, the bread was a little dry. I didn't hear the wagon leave this morning... which means this must be the last from Silas' last trip to the village a few days ago... meaning... "I intend to take a trip down to the village today." Silas' warm voice interrupted Michaela's thought process. She nodded mutely in response, silently confirming her deductions, and then replied: "I understand, I'll make sure to give the goats hay later this morning." Silas nodded, but then surprised Michaela by responding: "I already took care of it... Actually... I have a favor to ask of you." Silas scooted his chair closer to the table and leaned forward, Michaela remained still, but noted that Silas' expression had changed. It was still a smile, but a small one, his eyes looked hesitant. "The last time I went to the village I heard ill rumors." Silas blinked, perhaps realizing how grave he had become. He eased back in his chair and took a bite of goat cheese before continuing his explanation in a far more relaxed tone. "'Seems folk aren't feeling all too well... and after talking to a few of those folks myself... I came to thinking that perhaps you could help... you and that staff of yours." Silas' usual mannerisms had returned, he split a wide grin and his grey eyes sparkled as he gestured past Michaela. Michaela turned in her chair, looking towards the spot Silas indicated. A staff about three quarters of Michaela's height was propped against the wall by the door, next to Silas' coat.
Michaela rose from her chair and wordlessly crossed the room to pick up her staff. The oak staff was smooth all the way down the entire haft and had a nice weight to it. A blue sphere was mounted to its tip. The sister at the orphanage had told Michaela that it was a magic crystal, carefully crafted to channel a particular sort of light magic: healing magic. Michaela shuddered, clearing thoughts of her former home as she twisted the staff between her hands. It won't be anything...anything like before. No d-danger...just someone not feeling well...a cold, maybe. Easy to take care of... Michaela bit her lip, Elimine, one more day... Mentally concluding her hasty prayer, Michaela affixed a hopeful smile as she turned back to face Silas. "Well, we'd best be off before it gets any later, huh?..." Silas beamed again in response, and hurriedly rose to get the wagon ready. Let me be a help, not a hindrance... With that final thought, Michaela hurriedly cleared the table and stepped outside to meet Silas.
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Garnet
Hero
The Scarlet Brand
You call these bandits? You should'a seen what I had to deal with in Sacae!
Posts: 330
Etruria Fame: 1
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Post by Garnet on Feb 8, 2016 20:57:44 GMT -6
Daybreak.
And another Hellish day waiting out whatever sickness had befouled the Tuscana countryside. He pushed himself to his feet from the corner of the living room he'd been put up in, and stretched. He felt sore and stiff after the night leaning into the corner of the room on the floor, but there weren't many places available. Oh, he could always have slept outside, but he wasn't quite able to trust the desperate people here to not throttle him if he stayed out for the night. He gathered up his belongings, slung on his coat, and strapped his weapons and shield across his back. Not because he was planning on going anywhere in particular. He just didn't like the idea of leaving his things laying around for anyone to take in a plague ridden village.
He pushed out the door, tousling his hair and rubbing his eyes a bit to wake up as he did so, and looked across the sight. Things were calm, if a little tense. A sickness had swept into the town, and was laying waste to the unlucky one's who'd caught it. Thankfully, there was someone here who could offer hope. If an expensive one. A merchant had rolled into town recently who had medicine to combat the disease. His charge for services was a little high for the people of this village, but Garnet supposed that the man was entitled to a profit of some sort. He'd seen the merchant's associates though. A few guards and a driver for the wagon. He'd have kept the guards on a tighter chain, if they were under his command. He'd seen them get away with menacing people a little bit. They contented themselves to keeping a wary eye on him whenever he was around though.
Unsure what to do with his time here, since the work had practcally shut down during the plague, he went around to the side of one of the sick houses near a central square, and started chopping firewood from the stump pile. Places like these always needed more fuel for their fires, so he may as well do some good while keeping an eye on the roadways in and out of the town.
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Mel
Thief
Posts: 187
Profession: Professional Asshole
Affiliation: Bandits and Tiger and Bears, OH MY!
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Mel on Feb 10, 2016 23:14:54 GMT -6
Daybreak.
Mel awoke feeling no better than she had the day prior, blinking sluggishly at the ceiling as a few rays of damned sunlight warmed her cheeks. She lay sprawled out under the thin blanket the inn had provided, limbs feeling so heavy that they could have been made of stone. Honestly, she didn't want to rise and meet the damned new day, but after the two wasted ones of lying lethargic in a cramped room she had to admit that lying around wasn't helping her get any better. Rather, with every passing day she found herself feeling gradually worse and worse. Idly she ran a tongue across her dry lips and reached for the water jug lying by her bedside, forcing herself to sit up against the headboard as she gripped the handle tightly in two fists. Unsteadily she raised it to her mouth, the liquid spilling down her cheeks as she thirstily gulped down whatever drops made it past her lips.
The sickness had begun only two days prior and she mad more than exhausted her meager supply of herbs in a futile attempt to combat it. Mel considered herself rather proficient when it came to blatant injuries, and sickness was not something she was all too familiar with when it came to treatment, however she did understand how to treat symptoms. Salve for a rash that only grew worse, lugroot and honey for a cough that rattled her rib cage, and birch leaf to treat her aches and pains. But, after two days of careful rest and her own medicines nothing seemed to be working, and two days was patience at her finest!
Something was off, Mel's gut screamed for her brood and against her better judgement she sank back into the lumpy pillows, eyes slipping shut. She drew a mental map, highlighting the only two points that mattered, from where she was coming and to where she was going. They were both fairly obvious, from the mess of Sacae and off to the Western Isles to deliver her overpriced baggage. Nacht would have to be patient, her temporary incapacitation was really only his proble-
The thief froze, a chill running down her spine at the thought of the tall effeminate male who had offered her such a tempting job. It really was for far too much gold, she should have known better than to meddle in things that were obviously far too good to be true. Jude was to blame. She'd have never had accepted such an obviously bogus offer if she'd had been in her right mind, everything about the man had simply struck her the wrong way.
The hollow laugh brought no mirth to her eyes as it racked her chest, Mel forcing herself back up as she peered out the window. It was silly really, that someone would go to such lengths to kill a single thief that they had hired that they would-
No. It made no sense. The rapid thoughts of betrayal screeched to a halt as she considered the bigger picture. The village had been dealing with the sudden bout of sickness for half a week before she had arrived by chance, it was highly unlikely that it had anything to do with her. And for that, she momentarily relaxed, wearily scooping up an apple from the bedside table and taking a small bite. Something was off about the entire matter, but Nacht certainly had nothing to do with it.
Against her better judgement Mel forced herself up out of the bed and made move to dress, a dry barking cough bursting from her throat with each movement. If she didn't get better loafing around in a bed all day she decided that she certainly couldn't get any worse doing the opposite. Fresh air did do wonders sometimes.
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Michaela
Cleric
Posts: 26
Affinity: Ice
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Michaela on Feb 11, 2016 19:45:26 GMT -6
The wagon bounced along the dirt path, down the hill towards the village swelling on the horizon. Michaela's spirits had improved considerably since waking up, and that was primarily due to Silas' company. He had struck up amicable conversation almost immediately as they loaded the wagon with goat milk and cheese. "--and that was the last time I tried building a fence for them! Stubborn fools..." Michaela pressed a hand to her mouth and tried in vain to suppress laughter to the end of Silas' anecdote. The pair sat at the wagon's front, with Silas holding the reins of the lone donkey pulling the wagon, and Michaela turning in her spot every few minutes to make sure none of their goods were out of place, per Silas' instructions. The sun had risen in the sky, and amidst Silas' chatter, the rocking of the wagon, and the sun's warmth, Michaela forgot her troubles for a moment.
The village stood in stark contrast with their bright surroundings. Michaela and Silas' conversations gradually grew shorter and their smiles shrank as they approached the village gates. They had both fallen silent by the time they entered. The streets were abandoned, the sharp clacking sound made by the donkey's pace echoed down the alley, muted only by the bustle of the wagon. "Seems things haven't improved..." Michaela nearly jumped at the sound, she glanced at her travelling companion who had just spoken and noted that, for the first time since they had met, Silas' smile had disappeared, replaced by a slight frown as they digested the gravity of the situation.
Michaela's throat tightened as the cart came to a stop in the center of town. The square was wide open and lined with shops, the sort of place that normally drew a crowd. It's... empty... Michaela's heart sank thought. "Well, business might be a bit slow today..." Silas' tongue-in-cheek proclamation drew Michaela out of her reverie, she spun around to see that Silas had opened the back of the cart and was patiently sitting on a crate, as if customers would suddenly crowd the deserted square. Part of Michaela wanted to admire his optimism, the other part felt all the more hopeless because of it. "It seems we've made it just in time..." Silas spoke again, seemingly undeterred. "I know you'll set things right...I can feel it." Michaela's stomach tied a knot as she met his twinkling eyes. But...I've let people down before...you have no right to believe that I can... Michaela opened her mouth, bracing herself to deliver disappointment... Yet, despite her doubts, she couldn't admit them in the presence of such hope. Michaela elected instead to nod mutely and tighten her hands on her staff before replying in a steady tone, "I'll do my best..."
Silas nodded eagerly at her reply. "I know!" His nods tapered off, replaced by a small smile similar to the one he wore earlier that morning. "... Still, things are worse than the last time I was here... I'm not sure you should be wandering about alo--" *CRACK!* the end of Silas' sentence was punctuated by the crack of splitting wood. Michaela turned, her eyes searching the square for a sign of life. Her eyes fell on the hatchet as it plunged towards another log...*CRACK* A man with scarlet hair stood tucked into an alley across the town's central square. The hatchet hung loosely in his hand as he looked down at the four halves of log at his feet. He seemed oblivious to the world around him as he went about his task.
Michaela hesitated, but after Silas gave her an encouraging nod, she composed herself and started to briskly cross the gap between her and the stranger. Michaela's approach slowed as she neared, the stranger's expression was dour, perfectly mirroring the mood of the village around him. "Excuse me...sir?" Michaela raised her voice as she called out, surprising herself by how calm she sounded. She had stopped a few yards short of him, just in case his intentions matched his expression. "May I ask what you what's happening here? You're the first soul I've seen, and I'm here to help." Michaela's tone was imperious, compensating for her lack of confidence. That last words of her greeting rang false in her own ears.
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Garnet
Hero
The Scarlet Brand
You call these bandits? You should'a seen what I had to deal with in Sacae!
Posts: 330
Etruria Fame: 1
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Post by Garnet on Feb 12, 2016 18:52:50 GMT -6
Garnet felt someone coming up near him more than saw the person. They weren't rushing or yelling at him as they did so though, so he didn't feel he needed to spin on whoever it was without warning. Instead, he kept on chopping. Her voice surprised him a bit as he made the next chop. Very young. She was but a girl, yet she did her best to push sincerity and feeling into her voice as she spoke. He finished a few more chops and then stood up, leaving the axe against the block as he did so.
He turned, and fixed a keen stare on her. Who was she to think she could help? He looked, and saw the telltale staff in her hands. Someone with some healing magic then? He glanced up and caught sight of a farmer with his wagon, probably come in to trade. It'd be hard trading today. Few enough people wanted to be about. The village seemed helpless to contain the spread of the disease. Keeping indoors as much as possible wasn't even a guarantee against catching whatever was going around. He wasn't sure how many people had thought of that, but he'd seen people from all over town getting sick.
"Town's sick. Been getting sicker for days." Garnet straightened out his coat and looked her over a little more before glancing towards one of the larger buildings in the town, just a short walk from where they were.
"They set the inn up as a shelter when the numbers grew greater, but nothings seemed to fix whatever it is they've got." Garnet's voice was quiet. The streets almost seemed like a tomb to him. Not a pleasant feeling for a place that have been vibrant only a week of two before.
"Nothing except that merchant's cure. But it's not cheap. Says it's worth its weight in gold, and won't part with his stores for less than what most of these villagers make in a month." He paused, waiting for her reaction.
"You think you can help?"
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Mel
Thief
Posts: 187
Profession: Professional Asshole
Affiliation: Bandits and Tiger and Bears, OH MY!
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Mel on Feb 15, 2016 14:13:53 GMT -6
The other patrons of the inn gave her a king's berth as she passed, the perfect picture of pestilence. There was the usual confidence in the thief's step, and she gave no heed to their fear. They sank back and covered their mouths and noses, fleeing with the rhythm of slamming doors. No one wanted to risk catching any hint of the vile disease rampaging through the town. Mel lacked any sympathy towards their plight and she couldn't quite come up with a complete reason for it yet. She did however know that it had a great deal to do with the dark mood that had overtaken the pathetic stain on a map of a village. Honestly, when had hiding ever outsmarted an illness. It wasn't as if you could hide from the wind.
She stepped outside of the inn, a shiver trickling through her limbs as Mel pulled her hood up and drew her cloak tightly around herself. Somehow she felt unsteady walking about properly for the first time in a handful of days, joints hollow and aching. Even with the subtle crackle of a wheeze with the fall of her chest Mel hardly felt any worse and common sense said not to push it.
With a measured puff of breath through pursed lips she passively swung a glance about, thoroughly unimpressed by just how barren the town was. Barely a soul in the streets save for the two milling about in the town square, a duo that she looked once over and prepared to ignore. Fragments of their conversation drifted to her ears, one particular phrase taking most of her interest and forcing her against her better judgement to trudge over with a wet sniffle.
"If that glorified kindling does anything useful I'll eat it," Mel stated quietly, a sharp bite to her tone nonetheless.
The staff had only taken her notice when she had drawn closer, but as always when faced with that sort of magic Mel was skeptical. If curing such an illness was solved so simply it would't be rampaging through a village in the first place.
"The Merchant who se-"
She broke off, a barking cough breaking from her throat as the force bent her forward, hands instinctively flying up over her mouth until she regained her breath a good half a minute later. With a roll of her eyes and a frustrated sigh Mel began again, glancing harshly between the two to sway them against daring to make a comment on the display.
"The Merchant, does it actually work?" It sounded as if it was far too good to be true, a ploy to pull some easy coin from desperate people who were too frantic and fearful to know better.
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Garnet
Hero
The Scarlet Brand
You call these bandits? You should'a seen what I had to deal with in Sacae!
Posts: 330
Etruria Fame: 1
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Post by Garnet on Feb 15, 2016 19:13:13 GMT -6
The click of a shutting door and a quiet dragging of weary footsteps caught Garnet's attention as he spoke. He turned carefully to hold this lone wanderer in view, but there was no need. Before too long, she made directly for them. He made to cover his face as she drew near and he could see death on her, but gave up the action as futile almost as soon as he did it. He'd not caught whatever was going around yet, but there wasn't much avoiding it as long as he was here. He thought he ought to leave, but something held him back. Maybe he didn't want to chance risking spreading the disease to other parts of the country.... Maybe a part of him welcomed the idea of death.
"Seems to." Garnet groused out. His voice had gone and and dry with his sour mood. "I've seen him give it to those in his caravan. A few of the villagers have managed to scrape enough gold together to pick it up, and they seem to be making a recovery." He'd watched the goings on in the village. He'd seen the caravan guards and how they didn't mess around. He'd seen how close the merchant and his staff stayed to their wagon. It made sense. They wanted their profit and didn't want the town to get any ideas about rising up and taking it by force. So they strong armed the people to maintain control.
"He mixes up a few batches a day, and then sells them to whoever pays the best. I guess no one's decided to try and force him to mix up a batch for them yet. That's what the guards are for, I guess."
He hated thinking the worst of people, but in this instance, it was hard not to. The man was essentially holding the town hostage. Extortion was a crime, and those who used it deserving of judgement....
What's it mean for the one that lets them do it..., hmm? Garnet thought of himself. At one time, you wouldn't have stood for this. What happened to you?
"Well, you wanted to help." Garnet said, gesturing towards the small silvery haired figure that had come out to join them. It only became apparent how much he towered over her once she came nearer. She was no bigger than a child, but she didn't speak like a child.
"Here's your chance to see what's in the town, first hand."
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Michaela
Cleric
Posts: 26
Affinity: Ice
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Michaela on Feb 15, 2016 21:47:11 GMT -6
The carmine-haired stranger seemed to ignore Michaela at first. He reached for another log, and glared at it as if it had personally wronged him before rising the hatchet again and cleaving it in one smooth, clean motion. Michaela, for her part, held her position, keeping her posture erect and her face steady as debris from the chop narrowly missed her ankles. The pair repeated this routine for another minute, Michaela stirred with impatience and opened her mouth to interject again, but stopped as she found that the stranger's intense stare had suddenly affixed onto her, instead.
So things are getting worse...Silas' guess was correct. Michaela's mouth pushed to side, and she started twirling one of her bangs as she listened, they were habits of hers when she was thinking. The sick are being kept together at the inn... Michaela recalled the infirmary at the abbey. Grouping the victims made it easier to consolidate resources and allowed caretakers to keep tabs on their patients. "Who's taking care of the ill?" The question blurted out of Michaela's mouth when the stranger was in between sentences. She bit her lip to chide herself for interrupting before focusing her attention back on listening.
At the mention of the merchant, Michaela's eyebrows lifted. "The merchant's cure?" Michaela nearly interrupted the man again, interjecting immediately after he finished his sentence. "Have you seen this merchant? What's he like? What sort of cure is he peddling?" The questions poured out like a flood, one after another as Michaela's thoughts built off of one another.
The stranger's description of events was puzzling to her, the sister at the abbey would never charge to administer healing magic to those in need of it, even for minor injuries. She imagined the merchant must be some sort of bishop if he was healing the public. Perhaps he's charging because he's in desperate need himself...or maybe this stranger didn't recognize the fact that those who were healed were merely donating to give their thanks... Michaela assured herself naively, nodding along at her own justifications.
"--You think you can help?" Michaela matched the stranger's stare with a level look of her own. She squared her shoulders and unintentionally re-adopted the imperious tone she had used when greeting him. "Of course, I--"
"If that glorified kindling does anything useful I'll eat it."
The words were spoken softly, but the venomous tone behind them cut Michaela off as if they had been shouted. Michaela flushed and wheeled to address the speaker, a young woman who stood a few inches shorter than herself, but still appeared to be about her own age.
"What did you just say?!" Michaela instinctively clutched the staff closer to her chest. Michaela's eyes were alight with indignation as she glared daggers at this new silver-haired stranger. The light in her eyes intensified as the stranger ignored her to address the red-bearded man instead, but she refrained from interjecting again, her lips formed a slight pout as she begrudgingly listened to the ensuing conversation.
As the stranger struggled to force a sentence out between horrific coughs, Michaela felt her distaste for the blasphemer lessen to make way for sympathy, but only slightly. So this merchant isn't a clergyman after all... Michaela's face fell as the ruby-haired man further explained the merchant's doings. Michaela's eyebrows climbed toward her hairline again as he mentioned 'mixing' and 'batches'. Michaela dimly recalled her mentor at the abbey brewing tea for patients with a case of sneezes, but that was about it. Her mouth contorted to the side again as she mulled the unfamiliar words over.
"Well, you wanted to help." The stranger's statement stirred Michaela out of her thoughts. She met the man's eyes with a look of blatant incomprehension before she remembered the silver-haired maiden's hoarse wheezing from earlier. H-her?! Michaela's brow furrowed of its own accord as she gave the slight girl a once-over.
"... Fine." her tone was flat as she glanced up crimson-bearded man. She looked back to the other girl, "would you mind having a seat on the steps, or against a wall, please?... H-healing can take a little while..." Although the words were polite, Michaela's tone was a little bossy. She bit her lip once again to chide herself for stuttering. Truthfully, healing would only take awhile because she was blatantly inexperienced. Behind the flat expression that she directed at her patient, Michaela prayed that she would be up to this task.
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Mel
Thief
Posts: 187
Profession: Professional Asshole
Affiliation: Bandits and Tiger and Bears, OH MY!
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Mel on Feb 15, 2016 22:59:29 GMT -6
Unwilling was just as much of an understatement as saying there was a prophet in Etruria. A single searing glare was all that it took to make Mel's stance on being 'helped', very clear. Punching someone wasn't exerting herself, especially when that someone was some measly little, scripture pumping, vile twerp with a stutter and a squeak in her ear bleeding squeals. Actually, it'd probably make her feel a good deal better, satisfaction was always fantastic.
A scoff was the only response to mousy Cleric's unwanted assistance, Mel's lips curling into a momentary snarl to drive her point home. She wanted no part in the twerp's little feel good charity, or any part in useless magical mystical cures that wouldn't do the right work. For a last step further she forced out a cough in her direction. There, that made her feel far better.
Her attention snapped back to the crimson haired male and the topic that had originally commanded her attention. The cure.
"Batches..."
Now there was something she could work with, if it was indeed as effective as it seemed. All she had to do was find out just what made it so effective and with a bit of sweat, phlegm, and cursing violently under her breath, she'd be able to come up with some sort of variation of it. If he was making multiple batches the ingredients were likely sourced close enough by so that he could keep a steady supply. Now Mel hardly held an interest in mercantilistic matters, but...
Mel folded her arms across her chest and raised her shoulders up, ignoring the two as she delved into thought. Her expression slipped to a more neutral palette, slowly blinking as she inhaled a single long breath.
Now she wasn't much of one to care what some merchant did in his time, as far as she was concerned he was only doing his job, to lift coin from people's pockets. However, the price of his concoction by the way it was described was far above the current contents of her light purse. That made it quite inconvenient. In fact, it made it personal. She wasn't any sort of Merchant, but for the sake of sticking a finger to the source of her inconvenience she could take any nearly any mask. Proper incentive did wonders for her work ethic.
When she made her own medicine, and Mel had little doubt that she wouldn't be able to, she'd have the key to driving his market away. All she had to do was offer her own for a mere fragment of it's current price, free even if she was feeling particularly sore about the ordeal.
The corners of her lips curled skyward as a plot started to come together in her mind's eye. Mel couldn't do much sleuthing personally, however... Her gaze snapped to the mousy Cleric, maybe she'd prove herself useful after all.
"You. You want to help people here? In this town?" It was rhetorical, Mel stating the fact to remind Mousy of her purpose before she dove down into her own proposal. Her tone lightened, not honeyed by any standards but still leagues above how it had been moments before. "How about this. If you find out just what's in that tonic of our dear friend of a Merchant, I'll provide my own at a mere drop of the cost of his." She wouldn't offer it being free just yet, the morsel saved as a final push of leverage to convince the Mouse.
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Michaela
Cleric
Posts: 26
Affinity: Ice
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Michaela on Feb 16, 2016 19:53:41 GMT -6
The small girl's reaction took Michaela aback at first, but Michaela urged herself to show no further signs of weakness. She took in the display of hostility with a cool stare. But my...what a tantrum... The thought sprang into her mind unbidden. Michaela's deadpan expression quirked slightly as she suppressed a laugh. She bit her tongue and forced herself to maintain a steady poise in the face of the little rat's tirade.
"I knew some children like you back at the abbey..." Michaela turned away from the girl's snarl. Her tone was cold enough to freeze a river. "Headstrong, convinced they didn't need help from anyone, and they behaved just like you are now..." Michaela turned back to the girl, Michaela's teeth were bared in a triumphant grin. "Trouble is, they have an excuse, the other children are still in their small clothes." Michaela beamed serenely after finishing the thought, feeling she had won an internal victory of sorts. The smile melted as she felt hot breath rush over her face. The vermin had coughed on her.
Michaela's cheeks flushed with anger as the rat turned away, muttering something to herself about 'batches'. Michaela snapped her gaze away from the silver hair, meeting eyes with the crimson haired stranger instead. Michaela gave him an incredulous look before directing a glare at their foul-mouthed companion in a bid to form a silent majority against her. Michaela gave him no time to react, however, as she busied herself with scrubbing imaginary filth off her face with the crook of her elbow. Michaela prayed that whatever the pest had was past the catching stage.
"You." Michaela instinctively knew she was being addressed just by the girl's tone. She peeked her eyes out over her arm, blazing with rage at the newcomer's challenge. In spite of her feelings, Michaela heard the proposal out.
There was no immediate response to the silver-haired girl's proposal, Michaela's thought were conflicted' her bangs found themselves between her fingers as she assessed the situation. On the one hand, the rat was offering her a straightforward plan to helping the people of the village. In doing so, the other girl had precluded Michaela's talents as being part of that solution. Michaela's blood boiled with that realization, and her mouth grew smaller as she toyed with her hair a little faster. I'll show her...she needs to take me seriously too!
Michaela's hand left her hair and feel to her side, she met the other girl's honeyed tone with a serene smile. "I'm in." she chimed in blissfully. If you're in charge, you own the mistakes too... Michaela's smile cracked a bit with the thought.
But...something still wasn't right. Memories of the abbey forced Michaela's tongue. "But...I have a question... Why are we charging? If the villagers can't afford the cure... are we any better than the merchant if we charge for ours too?" The question was voiced hesitantly. Michaela had been unprepared to encounter this many moral dilemmas in such a short span of time.
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Garnet
Hero
The Scarlet Brand
You call these bandits? You should'a seen what I had to deal with in Sacae!
Posts: 330
Etruria Fame: 1
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Post by Garnet on Feb 16, 2016 21:01:36 GMT -6
The air seemed to be filling with more and more angry voices between the two. He half expected to hear screaming and yowling soon, so he turned back to where he'd set his gear down near the chopping block and picked up his waterskin from there, and tipped it back for a long drink. For being so sick, the smaller one had alot of spunk to refuse treatment. Most of the people here would be overjoyed to see someone trained in the healing arts. Silvery wasn't most people, it seemed. The cleric girl had just as much of an attitude on her though. He rolled his eyes to himself, thinking how these two were looking to be tied up in the town's survival. Great.
He turned back sharply as he heard raised voices and saw the healer vigorously scrubbing at her face. "Hey!" The glare he sent over towards the sick one was enough to peel the paint off the buildings with a look, but that wasn't really too far of a change from the expression he'd had on his face earlier. He'd not seen exactly what had gone down, but it wasn't hard to guess. Some people would consider that a type of assault. He didn't do more than snap in annoyance and watch the proceeding events though.
It seemed like these two were getting a little ahead of themselves in their bid to save the town. Whether fueled by noble intent or vengeance towards this merchant, they didn't even possess a cure of their own yet. Any plans on what to do with it wouldn't matter till someone had... liberated it.
"Even if you have confidence in your herbalist skills, Kieran the Trader is not going to just give out his secret. Not with how I've seen him behave here. You'll have to figure some way to deal with him and his muscle if you want to get past that."
"Either of you young do-gooders have names?" He used the term loosely. The use of the word for the healer was probably genuine enough, but from what he'd seen and heard, Silvery was a trouble starter, and seemed to have her own set of goals underlayed beneath this desperate bid to steal the cure. The need for the cure for herself probably was a sizable part of it.
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Mel
Thief
Posts: 187
Profession: Professional Asshole
Affiliation: Bandits and Tiger and Bears, OH MY!
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Mel on Feb 24, 2016 21:36:35 GMT -6
Mel blinked at the cleric in momentary bemusement at her distress to hear that the cure would still cost a couple of shiny. The silver-haired girl sucked in a measured breath, shoulders rising and then falling as she let out a curt puff of air to scatter any loose strands that had wandered into her eyes. This part of the faux negotiations were tricky, and while Mel did pride herself on reading people there was always the nagging voice in the back of her head reminding due diligence to a task.
"To be quite fair, the merchant s'hardly doing anything wrong. He's providing a service and s'being compensated all the same. It's all rather complicated, I doubt you'd be able to understand it." Mel waved a hand dismissively at Michaela, enjoying the momentary air of superiority. "I'd be providing a service myself you see, and it's only fair that I be compensated just the same. Have to make a living somehow. Enough to cover the cost of materials and for my time."
"Fair?" Mel cocked a brow as she cast the Cleric a glance, arms folded against her chest as she inspected her expression carefully. It seemed to be going well enough. The redheaded man did make a good point however, one that she had considered likely and was none too pleased to have verified. It certainly complicated things, especially when she herself was more than out of a condition to tackle it how she preferred. Solo. As painful as it was to admit, having a few pawns would be beneficial to her cause. And so, there was little hesitation in which she gave over a name for them to use. It certainly was fitting.
"Hemlock."
Mel's arms drifted down to loosely cross over her stomach as she relaxed, flipping through quite a few possible scenarios as she gave a soft cough and once again started to speak. "Obviously he wouldn't just hand it over, even if you do a whole..." Trailing off for a moment she gave Michaela a long hard stare. "Godly guilting act and tears. You'd have to borrow it." She meant steal, there was no question about it. "without asking of course."
"And for your troubles and all that I suppose-" She let out an extended sigh, rolling her eyes heavenwards as if it pained her to even consider such a thing, much less offer it. "-that I can overlook charging the townsfolk. fair enough?"
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Michaela
Cleric
Posts: 26
Affinity: Ice
OoC Alias: Derick
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Post by Michaela on Feb 26, 2016 21:49:43 GMT -6
The moment of silence amongst the group was chilling, given the square's empty condition. Satisfied that she had cleansed her face of the diminutive girl's present, Michaela spared a glance at their surroundings. Shockingly, a lone customer had found their way to Silas' stand, the two appeared to be chatting quietly, oblivious to the commotion across the square. A slightly choked breath drew Michaela's attention back to the group, just in time to hear Silver's response. Michaela stiffened as Silver flipped a hand dismissively in her direction, it was as if the other girl were swatting her concerns away like troublesome insects.
Michaela's fists clenched, and her chin jutted out as she readied a scathing reply, but Crimson's interjection about Kieran the Trader concerned Michaela just enough to give her pause. If it were to come to fighting...I would be helpless...just like... She gave her head an irritated shake, dismissing the familiar guilt trip while in the company of others.
"--Fair?" Michaela responded to Silver's crooked eyebrow by crooking her mouth to the side. As she considered the argument, Michaela's defiant stance grew more subdued. She turned from the group, pacing back and forth slowly as her hand teased her bangs. Finally, Michaela stopped with her back to the group and spoke hesitantly, "those were all fair points... and it does sound like an awful lot of trouble, so I can understand wanting something in return... but..." Taking from someone while they're in need? That was the thought that kept nagging her, it went against what her mentor had taught her, what Elimine would have wanted. I must do right by what I was taught! Michaela's shoulders squared once again with the thought. She turned on the spot towards the group and opened her mouth, intending to resolutely deny the compromise...
"--Either of you young do-gooders have names?" Michaela choked on her words at Crimson's gruff demand. As she attempted to untangle her speech, she was struck by the praise buried beneath Crimson's title for her. Michaela replied brightly and readily with her true name, "I'm Michaela!" Her cheeks felt slightly flushed, her doubt shrank as she congratulated herself, at least someone recognizes that I'm just trying to do the right thing! The irony of Hemlock being addressed by the same title was lost on Michaela in her fleeting euphoric state.
A soft cough drew Michaela from her thoughts for the second time, Hemlock was eyeing her appraisingly. Michaela's smile faltered as she listened to Hemlock's next proposition. "S-stealing?!" Michaela had shouted the word, interjecting harshly into Hemlock's diatribe. The interruption fell on deaf ears, Hemlock shot Michaela a mocking stare at the idea of pleading with the merchant. Michaela flushed and seethed internally as she furiously crossed that idea off of her mental list. She maintained a smoldering glare towards the ground as Hemlock continued, but was completely disarmed by Hemlock's final offer.
"W-wha?..." Michaela sputtered stupidly for a moment before forcing her mouth shut with a click. She closed her eyes and curtly turned away as she collected herself. For the rest of this venture, I will not give this girl the satisfaction of seeing more of my naivete! Michaela's brow furrowed as she took in a slow, deep breath. She released it at the same speed, as she did so, her expression relaxed. When her eyes reopened, she looked into Hemlock's wearing a flat stare. "...Fine. I accept your offer." Her even tone masked the turmoil in her mind. If we're stealing, I'm just trading the sin of extortion for another... Hopefully Elimine appreciates effort.
There was another block of silence. Michaela glanced around the square for a moment, searching for inspiration on their course of action. Finding none, she addressed her colleagues instead. "So what's the plan for..." Michaela's mouth struggled to form the word 'stealing', but her emphasis implied as much as she continued, "borrowing this merchant's cure?" There was another pause, Michaela filled the gap by speaking her thoughts aloud. "... I don't think fighting's an option with a one-man-army..." She spared the yet-unnamed, dour-faced man an apologetic glance. "... And we're certainly not sneaking up on anyone with that cough of yours..." Michaela gave Hemlock a knowing smirk. Triumph at taking the upper hand in her petty dispute with Hemlock trumped sympathy for her ailment, the girl was a viper. A viper who needed healing. "So...where do we start?" Michaela raised her hands at her sides in an exaggerated shrug, she swore she could hear the question echoing down the empty alley.
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Garnet
Hero
The Scarlet Brand
You call these bandits? You should'a seen what I had to deal with in Sacae!
Posts: 330
Etruria Fame: 1
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Post by Garnet on Feb 27, 2016 16:50:10 GMT -6
"Hemlock?" Garnet quirked a smirk at the name the smaller figure gave. He knew very little about herbalism, but he'd been around enough guardsman from other places to have heard of the toxic properties of the plant. It was quite the name to carry, but it seemed appropriate enough given how the next moment she was suggesting thievery. There was a time where he would have turned around and walked away right then. Possibly even turned them in or put a stop to it. Times had changed though, and so had he. The right thing to do wasn't so easily defined anymore.
"And Michaela." He turned the names over in his mouth as he said them. Thought about what he was doing by involving himself here. He'd not said anyhthing yet. He could still get out. Why bother trying to right things if something else would just go wrong next week? Why steal this cure if the merchant wasn't actually doing anything illegal? Distateful? Yes. But he was only charging for his wares, and he would continue to do so. Ethics weren't allowed for in the law. He mind had it's own debate to get through as he watched and listened and judged the two girls as they argued back and forth.
"My name's Garnet, and if you're going to shout about stealing again, we might as well call this whole thing off. It won't just be the merchant with a grievance against us if word gets out." The town itself was depending on this man. Not everyone could afford his treatment, but those still depending on him would be infuriated if they learned of outside interference threatening their tenuous salvation.
As Michaela mentioned that she didn't think fighting was an option, Garnet said nothing. He wasn't sure if he could take down those guards. They could strong and violent, but it took something pretty bad to phase him these days. He'd seen "vicious" incarnate and lived through it already. There was somehing else that would stop him though.
"It's fine. I don't make a habit of busting heads because someone is a greedy bastard. I will help though. If you're wondering about getting started still, Hemlock is sick. Sick people go to Kieran to get healed. That's one reason we could get close. Or, you could try to speak with him, Your Holiness." He drawled the words out a little, deadpan in tone.
"I've seen him administer the potion a few times. He won't let anyone except for him and one who looks like an assistant of his into the wagon, and he wants you to drink it then and there. How about you, Hemlock? Any thoughts to share with the rest of us?" Garnet watched her. He had her pegged as a sneak thief of some kind now. It could be wrong since he had so little to go on, but the reactions seemed right. He thought back to how she'd agreed to not charge the villagers and laughed inwardly to himself. He wondered who she was going to extract her payment from then. This Kieran, or Little Michaela.
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Mel
Thief
Posts: 187
Profession: Professional Asshole
Affiliation: Bandits and Tiger and Bears, OH MY!
Affinity: Wind
OoC Alias: Mel
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Post by Mel on Mar 7, 2016 17:53:38 GMT -6
Mel's eyes narrowed at Michaela's shrill sputtering, taking great offence to just how great an inconvenience it could cause if they were overheard. She hurriedly scanned the nearly vacant square, taking little comfort that no one appeared to have overheard the mouse's mindless squeaks. Appearances meant little and even Mel couldn't guarantee just how exclusive thei- her intentions remained outside of their conversation. It wasn't a particularly pleasing start. She wished there was even the choice to leave with a few harsh words against the mouse, but regrettably she didn't have much in the way of options.
Sucking up the bubbling distaste for the display of stupidity, Mel pursed her lips and offered Garnet her attention. He couldn't possibly size up to as big of a disappointment as the mousy waste of breath had proven herself to be. And he didn't. It was refreshing. She crossed her arms, raising her eyes to the skies as she bobbled her head for a moment in idle thought.
As much as she would have enjoyed simply slipping on in, taking what she wanted from Kermit, and getting on her damned merry way, the odds were severely not in her favor. In light of that assumption her options dwindled, still in no time she had whittled her thoughts down into two clear plans of attack.
"Well..." her chest rose as she took in a deep breath and expelled an extended sigh, the proper words falling into place as she gave them both a pensive glance. "Option one," Mel tensely raised a finger, keeping her voice low. "It's a stretch, however I wouldn't doubt that it could work with a little extra effort." Blue eyes raked over Garnet's unkempt appearance, a momentary wrinkle forming between her eyes as she squinted. "Appeal to what he wants. Coin. Noble's son or someodd has fallen sick. Messenger that promises compensation in the face of the cure actually working. Grease it up, create a sense of competition. Noble is offering a reward to whomever can successfully cure him."
There was a subtle shrug of her shoulders as she reached the marrow of the scheme. "It would require a cleans suit of clothing, a shave, and a little color over that mop of yours. That red doesn't go unrecognized no doubt." Mel paused to cough, pulling the corner of her cloak up to cover her mouth. "It would only work if it was brought upon suddenly, leaving Kermit no time to think clearly through greed. Though even so...it certainly would be a stretch." Unlikely too, but she still liked the way that the plan sounded even if it was obviously not a realistic option.
She brought up a second finger, gaze shifting to Michaela to identify her as an important cog in it's gears. "You go, do your godly thing, cry. Honestly just make as much of a racket as you can. Getting thrown out of wherever he's staying is all the better. Just babble and preach enough to give me time to get in, out, and around as many corners as I need." The corners of Mel's lips pulled up into a mocking smile, "do it for the Holy things, Holiness."
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